


Like A Bad Joke Gone Wrong

by ErinHasse



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, OC, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Male Character - Freeform, Other, Self-Insert, Worldbuilding, time-travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinHasse/pseuds/ErinHasse
Summary: An SI, an OC, and a time-traveler walk into a bar. In the wrong village. In the wrong universe.





	1. Chapter 1

"Konoha," Eri said, eyes dancing with amusement and one hand absently stirring her cup noodles, "Konoha. The shinobi village. Really, Hiro? You're going to skimp out on samurai duties now? You gonna be a shinobi?"

Hirotoki deftly ignored the barbs aimed at him and only refilled her cup with his leftovers and sat down beside her, yawning, "Yes, Konoha. That Konoha. Filled-to-the-brim-with-shinobi Konoha. Can't skimp out on duties I don't have. And…maybe. Probably not, though. Not if I can help it."

Her eyes flicked towards his obnoxiously bright, light brown hair and to his rather distinct green eyes and snickered, "A stealth specialist is right out."

"Can you at least try not to be an asshole?" he complained, throwing his now empty cup of noodles into the fire pit in front of them, "This is supposed to be a tearful goodbye. Hell, we're supposed to start with how I died. We're doing this whole shit wrong right off the bat."

Eri took his arm and put two fingers on the underside of his wrist, "I can feel your pulse just fine."

"Why are we even married?" Hirotoki groused at her, at the sky, at everything in general.

"You're desperate and I'm generous," Eri cackled, releasing his wrist from captivity. Hirotoki frowned at her and scooted away on their shared log.

He held his entire torso away from her, as though she'd tackle him to the ground and…uh, do something horrible to him. He wasn't sure what, but he knew it would scar him for life.

She was still smiling at him.

It was scary as shit.

"So can we get on with that tearful goodbye?" Hirotoki urged her, waving one hand far too closely to her kill range, "Father's rendezvous point is three whole damn days away and we agreed to meet two days ago."

"Please, you'd have been late anyways. You simply aren't physically capable of being punctual."

"I was on time for our wedding."

"We only signed the papers."

"Same difference."

"And you made me and the officiate wait for a few minutes."

"Minutes, Eri. S'not that long. Also, stop trying to distract me. Or something. What are you trying to do?"

Privately, Hirotoki was rather glad it was Eri he married, because the amount of times he put his foot in his mouth may as well let his lips be his new sock, "…Not that I'm trying to get rid of you, or anything. This banter thing is confusing."

Eri actually seemed to pause at that, finishing her noodles and letting soup drip down her chin unattractively as she tossed her now empty ramen cup into the fire, "I'm not mad, or anything. If that's what you're worried about. I was just thinking about how I'll go around without a free translator and who'll be making sure you won't blow your arm off by trying out fuuinjutsu without me as your spotter."

While she wiped at her chin with her sleeve, Hirotoki's gaze slid off to the side, to the fire, the forest around them, then at her.

"If it'll make you feel better," he sounded out slowly, one hand reaching up to the bead bracelet wrapped around his left wrist, "We can always use Kensuke. He'll miss you enough to bitch about it if he stays with me, anyway."

Eri positively beamed, "Gimme."

"So demanding," Hirotoki complained, but dutifully put two fingers on the bracelet and pumped in a minute amount of chakra, letting a small ball of hardened ink, of some sort, fall out. The, he pulled the left part of his kimono away and pressed the ball into his left clavicle. With a flash of chakra, a seal appeared, and with a slight plume of smoke, Kensuke appeared. In all his eight-legged, hairy glory.

Kensuke wiggled at Eri, and she beamed.

Hirotoki rolled his eyes when the spider summon made grabby-hand motions towards his wife, and handed him over to her.

"So, what, I call you every other day?" Eri asked, hefting the spider to her shoulder where it rested against her hair, almost camouflaging itself in the black strands.

"Yeah, sure, why not," Hirotoki yawned, and stood up to stretch, "Come on, it's almost midnight and we'll need to haul ass if we want to shake 'em."

"They haven't managed to breach the perimeter, so we don't need to rush," she flopped a hand breezily at him, and stood to roll over the log they'd been sitting on to reveal the silencing and barrier seals she'd slapped on the underside of it.

It was dirty, and covered in a bit of grime from the mudded lands of Hi no Kuni (which was really just her spilling her water earlier), but they peeled off well enough and she threw them into the fire. She saw the chakra-generated plumes of smoke rise up along with the natural smoke, and it wasn't very discernible if you didn't know how to look for the flashes of light, almost white smoke.

Hirotoki, beside her, quickly flashed through several handsigns and slammed one palm on the ground, swallowing the fire pit and any trace of ash, leaving solid, smooth ground. It made for a rather obvious jutsu spot even if you discounted the chakra signature it left behind.

Eri walked forward, removing her gloves and crouched down to place two fingers on the point where his chakra, and some bits of hers, pulsed the strongest. Hirotoki felt rather than saw the chakra seep into her fingers, pulsing through her chakra system where it was cleaned and added to her internal supply.

"Don't you think we should cover this poor clearing's new bald spot?" she asked him.

His own chakra system bounced to the essential vacuum that she made, flushing down his body to his feet where it seemed to want to jump out and be eaten by Eri.

"Nah, they'll be using their sensor to track us. They won't have enough time to scout the entire forest."

It felt odd, just like it always did whenever an inert chakra user decided to feed in the presence of an exert chakra user.

Done, Eri dusted her hands off and moved a few rocks and logs into the bald spot anyway, because she was both thorough and paranoid.

And Hirotoki watched her, thought of the past few years they'd spent together, and said, "It's gonna be weird not having you around."

"I already said that," and yeah, she did, he just wanted to say it too.

But he couldn't seem to spit it out, everything else he wanted to say, and so he settled on, "Don't die on me, okay? It'll be a pain in the ass to find someone else to have a shotgun wedding with me."

Eri snorted, "Like anyone will."

"Of course they would," Hirotoki said, affronted, "I'm fucking hot, in case you didn't notice – wait, don't distract me, I was trying to instigate a heartfelt moment there."

"Yes, but I was worried that'd be too much expression for your emotionally-stunted face, husband," Eri said solemnly, taking both his hands to stare into his offended green eyes, "I was merely looking out for you."

"Oh that is so much bullshit—"

She smirked, petting his cheek twice, and pulling him in for a quick hug before she stepped back, "Don't miss me too much?"

"Screw off."

She laughed, again, turning heel and disappearing into the darkened forest.

Hirotoki released a sharp breath, shaking his head and heading for the opposite direction, where he could feel the hundreds of chakra light bulbs just a few dozen kilometers away.

"Priss," he muttered under his breath, "Didn't even give me a comeback."


	2. Chapter 2

So.

Immigration in a shinobi-driven, paranoia-fuueled society was a pain in the goddamn ass, neck and bladder. God, the hours he'd been holding it all in wasn't gonna be good for him the next time he went to a doctor for a check-up.

Hirotoki relayed all this in a suitably bitchy fashion, channeling the way Eri used to vent whenever someone tried to steal things from her, complete with gestures.

Hirotoki's father, Shigeyoshi, in turn, had nodded along, listening to his son's concerns, and swiftly decided to be a venting dump like he occasionally was with his own, late wife, who'd done the same for him.

The boy had so much of his mother in him that Shigeyoshi often pondered if him, his genes, and anything of his descent had been killed during the gestation period. Considering who his wife had been, that probably wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility.

Some minutes after Hirotoki had successfully unloaded and was now idly enjoying his tea, Shigeyoshi had finished squinting at the distant hustle and bustle at the market two streets over and turned to his son, "The good thing," he said, "Is that you didn't lie to the shinobi, right?"

Hirotoki's eyes slid to the side, teacup placed on the table between them, "…Define 'lie'. Because I definitely haven't given them any false information, if that's what you're asking."

"Hirotoki Gozen—"

Hirotoki shrugged, unrepentant, "I just didn't mention anything about being a ronin, that's all. And if they do ask about the sword, I'll just say I got an informal apprenticeship with a samurai before the guy bailed on me. I don't even need a cover story, since it's not like I'm lying. I got my bases covered, Father, I'll be fine. And I'll see to it that Eri's fine too if she ever decides to come here."

Which he expected, but not anytime soon.

With that, he peeled the silencing seal off the wall, feeling his wife's chakra leave the paper in the smallest plumes of smoke trailing into his sleeve and rolled it up into a tiny scroll before tucking it in.

Shigeyoshi shook his head, leaning forward to look at his son in the eye, "I trust you, son," he decalred solemnly, "I just hope you know what you're doing with all this."

The kettle in the kitchen gave s hrill whine, interrupting the relative silence of the sheer amount of familial disapproval in the air.

Hirotoki smiled, the one that looked so lazy it cam eoff as stoned, "Sure I do."

He even mainted eye contact with his father, before letting his eyes slide away towards the window, looking at the mountain in the distance.

The windchimes tolled a light ring in the summer air, pushing his light brown hair away from his face, "…I'll be fine."

His hands didn't even tighten over his teacup.

Shigeyoshi merely followed his son's gaze, at the mountain that would house his latest – and greatest – project. He looked down at his hands and saw the usual bruises a craftsman would see, and wondered, in his mind's eye, what his own son's hands looked like. If the tiny little scars littering his fingers had healed over.

"Alright," Shigeyoshi said, closing his hands into fists.

II.

"I swear to whatever god you preach if I have to wait in line for another two goddamn hours just to sign a single permit I will—"

"Right this way, Gozen-san," the shinobi assisting him said. He'd introduced himself as Izuki, which he didn't doubt was some sort of cover, and had shown him around the fortified tower Hirotoki suspected was this universe's Hokage Tower.

They were walking up the staircase now, which was narrow and spiral and surrounded by seals all over the walls, probably for fortification. No kunai would be able to whiz through, no jutsu would be able to flood the upper levels, and any sword too long would be a hindrance instead of an asset. Every kind of disadvantage for those coming up, and lots of advantages for those who lived up top. Hirotoki was fairly sure there were also sensing seals in the walls, and so the walls obscuring their vision wasn't going to be a problem.

All in all, what he expected from shinobi architecture.

And then they arrived, to this hall of doors which all looked the same, and Hirotoki didn't doubt that it was more of that paranoia-induced shinobi architecture. They stopped at the second one to the left instead of the door at the farthest end of the hall, and 'Izuki' rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

Hirotoki could feel chakra pulse under the shinobi's knuckles every time it connected with the door, and after sending out several odd patterns of chakra veins in the wood, the door unlocked and they both walked in.

It was so much bullshit.

It was probably designed to horribly maim anyone who got the code wrong, and with several back-up traps in the walls just in case, and it wasn't the first time Hirotoki inwardly groaned in exasperation.

His senses were being pulled in every damn direction there was a chakra source, which didn't even include the walking chakra bulbs called shinobi this entire damn village was populated with.

He'd need to explore the village to up his threshold again. Ugh.

They walked inside, another very short hall that opened to a medium-sized office, with a window at the back (sealed), two doors at each side of him (sealed), and a single desk at the middle-front of the office, bolted to the floor (and most likely sealed).

It was blatant abuse of chakra and seals and the kind of showing off Hirotoki thought was pretty gaudy for people in a profession that supposedly focused on stealth.

There was also a metric shit ton of chakra sources in the damn walls, and wasn't that a fucking hoot?

Hirotoki knew that shinobi were all trained to hone their chakra sensing to at least above average in terms of overall skill, including civilians, so they probably already knew about the chakra, weren't bothered, and were ignoring them.

So, either they were used to this, or somebody figured out he was a sensor and this was a test.

He hand't even realized that he, Izuki, and the probably Hokage were all just standing around in silence until Hirotoki managed to pull his mind together enough to concentrate.

And almost gaped.

"Hirotoki Gozen," Mito Uzumaki, the Second Hokage, greeted the young man with an amicable smile that was probably supposed to come off as grandmotherly and failed spectacularly, "Welcome to Konoha."

He really should've done his homework before coming to literally the only shinobi village in existence.

Oh, sure, Uzushiogakure had made a valiant effort, even succeeded, mostly, until the neighboring countries decided that they were getting too dangerous and so offed the entire island.

Hirotoki was fairly sure that in the story the entire island wasn't wiped off the map; people, land and all. It was eerily similar to nuking, and the thought of ninjas and nukes in the same sentence made Hirotoki screech in fear. In the privacy of his mind, of course.

"Thank you, eh, Hokage-sama…?" Hirotoki said, and Mito nodded once, her once vibrant crimson hair now a wispy silver-pink. Her eyes, however, were as sharp as they'd always been and Hirotoki showed deference by bowing once more.

"I've been informed of your lingual skills," Mito continued, leaning forward on her slanted desk, which tilted towards her, successfully blocking Hirotoki's view from the paper in front of her.

It didn't bode very well for him; the seals, the table, the way Izuki melted contentedly into the background and was probably the one sending the oddly amused chakra in the air. Jackass.

"I wish to test them," she continued, and it was probably the polyglot in him, but Hirotoki couldn't help but recognize the slight accent in her words, the way she phrased her sentences. It was almost similar to the Kansai accent from way back when.

She reached down to a drawer and produced a scroll, blank and unassuming and therefor terrifying, and tossed it to Hirotoki.

He caught it easily enough, noted by all occupants in the room. He deftly flicked it open and the end rolled out to a stop by his waist, as he held it at elbow-height.

Holy shit.

"Name your expertise," she said, not really demanded but she was the Hokage so it didn't matter in the end. What Hokage wants Hokage gets.

Hirotoki responded instantly, "Several of the major languages in the Elemental nations – though I can't say that I can write well in all of them – some backwater village's languages and a couple dialects from most continents."

"You're well traveled then?" Mito inquired, eyes taking on a curious gleam. Hirotoki avoided them in favor of scanning the scroll in hand – it was a Hi no Kuni fable about a shinobi turtle and an arrogant, merchant rabbit.

"Yes, Hokage-sama," Hirotoki divulged easily enough, "I've been to all countries—"

And most cities. And backwater villages.

"—though we tended to stay by the countryside."

No need to give his and Eri's pursuers a trail to follow. Or at least, a real one.

"Ah," Mito nodded, and Hirotoki wanted to steal a glance towards Izuki if the bastard was still in the background or had performed some sort of concealing technique to make him feel like he was alone, "Your companion was your wife, yes? It was mentioned here in your initial interview," she finished.

The interview that took two hours to wait for and half an hour to do. Hirotoki nodded wordlessly, mind briefly flashing back to the scarred shinobi who seemed to take way too much interest in him.

Mito smiled, lips stretching into a rather sinister grin, "I see. Thank you for answering this old woman's questions—"

Old woman was right. She had to be around her triple digits by now! Was it the Uzumaki genes? Did all Uzumaki have the birth-given power to outlive their own descendants?

"— You may now begin. Translate the scroll to Kaminari standard, then to Suna's international language, then translate it all into Konoha's standard."

The scroll was a two meters in length.

Hirotoki smiled to hide the foul swearing he was aiming at her, Izuki, and most shinobi inside his head and nodded.

Hirotoki blatantly took the probably-poisoned lemon juice by the secretary's paperwork, gulped down two liters and several half-melted ice cubes, placed the pitcher back down and stalked off.

After thanking the secretary of course, who had failed rather spectacularly about the mild poison in the juice.

That was alright, though. Hirotoki purified the absolute shit out of the thing before it even got into his stomach. Yay, digestion-concentrated seals. Great for not getting yourself poisoned. Or eating rotten food without getting yourself sick. Though the seal didn't do anything for the taste and sheer awfulness of it all.

The test had taken up most of the morning, that ended with no breaks, a very dehydrated Hirotoki and an Izuki who revealed himself to be a mere clone at the end when he stabbed himself into his left eye. Jackass. The white of his chakra had left a rather distinct signature when he left, though, so he knew 'Izuki's' real name, now.

The Hokage (in standing, as he eventually picked up from gossip that the Third was merely out, and so she was covering for a bit) had deemed his demonstration satisfactory, wrote something into something, and eventually tossed Hirotoki two scrolls and a book.

That was sort of rude, but he didn't want to come closer and neither did she.

She did't mention anything about a sort of probation, but he could read between the lines well enough. They'd probably send a shinobi to tail him for a year or so to make sure he wasn't a spy. That was fair, he supposed. He didn't really care. He was just here to kill some time.

Right now he wanted to go to his apartment, answer the siren's call, piss in the shower because Eri wasn't here to reprimand him for it and sleep until he figured out how to get rid of the jet lag.

And so, Hirotoki would have rather been left alone.

He managed to get all the way to the street, not even bumping into anyone, until someone very purposely bumped into him.

Silver hair. Black mask. Mediocre porn.

"You have shit taste," Hirotoki informed the other man, bluntly, "Though I guess the latest novels have gotten better," he admitted grudgingly in afterthought.

The single eye curved into the kind of smile Hirotoki just knew was designed to piss off as many people as possible. Eri did the same damn thing and managed to piss of every merchant trying to scam them out of something into giving them discounts.

"I'm a big fan of the earlier iterations, actually," Hatake informed him, glibly, raising his mediocre porn to eye level, and duly ignoring the first sentence uttered to him.

"Yeah, sure, you do you," Hirotoki said wearily, trying to side-step around the guy. He looked like he was still about a year, maybe two, younger than he was. It was a little disconcerting, "I'm gonna go home now. Alone."

Hirotoki watched, irritated, as the man's white chakra materialized into a slight sort of aura around him, several parts of it forming into hands and it's entire form shaking as it pointed at him.

So. This was Hirotoki's parole guard? You'd have thought that they'd assign someone so high-tier to a better mission.

Hirotoki, belatedly, noticed the odd shift to Hatake's legs as he walked, the way his arms bent just a little bit too much.

Ah. Made sense. A forced mission-vacation, then.

Hatake was still staring at him, "Is there something wrong?" he asked innocently, which Hirotoki didn't buy for even a second because shinobi were crafty at the best of times and this one was fucked in the head on more levels than his peers.

"Only with my bladder," Hirotoki informed the shinobi seriously, then pivoted on his heel and walked into the direction of his apartment. There, be awkward. Conform to social conventions and think him odd, please. It was so much easier to have people go out of their way to get out of his way.

Of course, inevitably, he heard the sound of bell chimes and feet padding on soil follow him.

The wind blew downward, and the brush of white chakra against his senses managed to make him sigh gustily.

So much for relative privacy.


	3. Chapter 3: Why a Samurai Isn't a Shinobi

It would shame him to admit he wouldn't think of the whys for Hatake following him home so conspicuously until he remembered that shinobi equaled mind-games, again, so it was probably another test.

Which he probably failed with dying rainbows.

Hirotoki tried to flit through several whys, but came up short. He couldn't remember anything he'd said or done that would be overtly suspicious, but then he found the whole song and dance of stealth and secrecy to be tiresome. He could've fucked up somewhere and hadn't noticed.

Hirotoki sighed, rubbing at the side of his neck with the hand that wasn't stained in ink.

He'd have to actually put in even more effort now. Why did he come to Konoha again?

Hirotoki paused, then snorted to himself and continued his work. No need to go down that slippery road again. Eri was a thousand miles away and his dad wouldn't be able to help other than good ole parental sympathy.

Speaking of Eri.

Finishing the seal, he pumped chakra into the paper and stuck it on the window glass, and felt it climb into the glass, the walls, the floor – not leaving behind a single crack uncovered before disappearing into the air. It glimmered, very faintly, a slight green but that was doable. As long as it didn't evaporate before he finished the call the chakra buffer would be fine as is.

Satisfied, Hirotoki summoned Kensuke as he usually did and pulled the spider out of the seal he had on his clavicle. He looked more than a little irate.

Hirotoki didn't care.

Raising a single eyebrow, the summons grumbled to itself with a slight whine before scuttling over to the floor to Hirotoki's left. He shifted away from the table to face the spider as it gathered up Eri's chakra from her own seal, and soon gathered it into several long threads.

And Kensuke started to weave.

Hirotoki watched as the form of his wife was slowly weaved into existence, and after some time, Eri smiled at him. She seemed to wisp with the air, her outline a burry, faint thing. But her smile was clear as day, and so was the insult on the tip of her tongue.

"So what'd you fuck up?" she asked cheerfully.

Hirotoki scrunched his nose up at her, but coated his hand with chakra anyway and gave her shoulder a squeeze, "I may or may not have been discovered by Hatake," he informed her blandly.

Even if he expected it, even if he knew that he wouldn't be able to feel her skin, or the warmth she exuded, Hirotoki was still a little disappointed.

"How?" she asked, amused, waving her transparent hand in the air, "We've barely been separated for a month."

He noticed it, of course, the way she very carefully tried not to move her shoulder too much, as though disrupting the very shaky connection they had now would disappear with the slightest interruption.

Hirotoki shrugged, "I'm not even exactly sure what he discovered, but he's been tailing me. And not even bothering to hide it."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said diplomatically, even as her eyes glinted.

Hirotoki's narrowed into slits, "You know."

"I have a guess," she corrected him. One of her hands came up to lightly hold his wrist.

He wasn't falling for it.

"That you're not gonna tell me?"

"That I can't tell you like this," she waved a faintly glowing, translucent hand over her form, "Nice digs, by the way."

The entire apartment screamed bachelor's pad.

"I can smell the stale take-out," she chirped.

"We can always move if you ever get here," he replied defensively, discreetly kicking a box of take-out out of view and under the couch.

Eri's eyes curved with what he called her Bullshit Smile. The one she wore whenever she had to, very aptly, bullshit her way out of a situation without force. Or in this case, bullshit her way out of a conversation she didn't want to have.

It looked just like Hatake's eye-smile.

It instantly made him suspicious.

"Well!" she said brightly, "Looks like time's almost up!"

Hirotoki scoffed, "I know you're trying to avoid the conversation—"

"—Gotta go, places to be, people to kill—"

"—And I am going to bring this up again," he told her firmly, crossing his arms and casting her an unimpressed look, "Don't think this is over."

He tried to glare at her and failed, which he knew because Eri merely laughed at his face and blew him a kiss before signaling to Kensuke to drop the connection.

Before she left, however, she paused, turning to him and smiling, "I know. We'll talk for real soon, okay?"

She'd probably call him then.

And then she promptly vanished.

Hirotoki rolled his eyes and stretched his arm. Kensuke made a faint whining sound and he pressed two fingers to the seal under his clothes and let the spider summon disappear in a small puff of smoke.

Hirotoki rolled his shoulders, a small sigh escaping him while the chakra buffer seal glowed minutely, before the buffer itself evaporated completely, leaving him alone.

Hirotoki blinked against the dark of the room, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and turned to walk towards his door.

II.

"Hey," he said, because the ruse had never been up and frankly this shit had been going on long enough, "Kid. Get up. What the fuck?"

Said kid was blonde, blue-eyed, whiskered and definitely a walking chakra bulb that burned against the back of his mind where he usually kept tabs on people with larger chakra signatures.

Said kid was also taking very wobbly steps towards him, and Hirotoki didn't miss the way people seemed to run for cover at the sight of the child. Who had just tripped over his own feet. And more or less had dust flying all over Hirotok's newly laundered clothes.

To be fair, though, the weird tail and claws were kind of unsettling.

Hirotoki, however, wasn't stupid. He could just let this all be, leave, do his business and get back to Eri and take his dad out of here and be done with it all.

But Hirotoki also knew that that excuse was not going to fly. Eri would probably file for divorce and his dad would immediately disown him.

Two small hands landed roughly on the cloth of his pants and bunched it up with short, stubby fingers.

The kid barely looked like he was two.

Damn his soft spot for kids.

"M'los'!" the boy he presumed was Naruto exclaimed to him, eyes wide and shining suspiciously.

Hirotoki ignored the pricks of the child's claws digging into his skin.

"Yeah?" Hirotoki half-asked, half-sighed, "Do you at least remember something near your house? Like, a pink building or something."

The presumed Naruto scrunched his face up, and by now Hirotoki was bleeding, "…Nope! All my neighb'rs are trees!"

…Near the forest…?

Hirotoki blinked, slowly, then crouched down carefully in order not to startle the boy and not let his pants get even more ripped and bloody than they already were.

"Okay. How about the mountain? Where do you usually see it when you're at your house?" Hirotoki gestured to the mountain more or less framing Konoha's northern territory, and the site for Shigeyoshi's latest project. One of the heads' foundation was already made.

The boy squinted at the mountain, then spun around in circles until he found the right angle. His arm pointed right, "S'that way!"

So Hirotoki looked left. It wasn't anywhere near the Nara forests, thankfully.

…probably.

But he could see the towering trees, and so he offered the child his hand, "Come on, then, bratling. Let's get you home before sundown."

Naruto stared at his hand, then stared at his face, before breaking out into a bright smile and wrapping his stubby little fingers around Hirotoki's thumb as tightly as he could.

Well damn.

That was actually kind of cute.

III.

Truth be told, Hirotoki found the way the vast majority of Konoha's population flinched away from Naruto…funny.

No, really.

It was great.

Nobody on the streets was trying to stop him for an interview, or one of those shady pyramid schemes, or any religious talks!

It was glorious.

Hirotoki found himself grinning and then spared a look at Naruto. He seemed a little down, but was still holding onto Hirotoki's thumb so tightly he could feel the circulation over there halting to a stop. So, he was probably trying to be fine.

One of the men they passed by murmured something about "the latest sacrifice" under his breath and Hirotoki sniggered.

"Hey bratling," Hirotoki inquired, looking down at the small fluff of blonde hair and blue eyes, "You never gave me your name."

Blue eyes blinked, then they shined, and then they shed. Tears.

Hirotoki flinched, "What? What did I say?!"

"Ya gon' hate me," the child sniffled, "If I tol' you."

"How would that even work?" Hirotoki asked him, astonished, "Wait, no, just tell me! I won't! Promise."

He even went so far as to draw an 'x' over his heart, though by the boy's incredulous expression, he didn't get it.

(Later on, Eri would shake her head when being told this story. Emotions. Her husband just wasn't good at them.)

The child pursed his lips, then set his rounded jaw and said, "Nar-to!"

"…Narto?"

'Narto' almost hit him, "Nooo! Na-ru-to!"

"Naruto," Hirotoki repeated back to him dryly, "Well, Naruto, do you think we're going the right way?"

They were already approaching the edge of the forest. Naruto took one look at the towering trees and brightened.

"yah!" Naruto exclaimed, tugging at Hirotoki's thumb and jogging forward, "Faster!"

"Don't make me run, bratling," Hirotoki complained, "I'm old, y'know? These bones don't work as well as yours! Have some pity."

IV.

Hirotoki blinked.

…Wow.

Now. He knew that comparing his previous life's standards to child rearing and this one were just going to end in both heartbreak and headache, so he didn't do it. Much.

But…wow.

The Hokages were really setting a new kind of low by punting the blonde bratling known as 'Narto' into a treehouse. At the outer forests. Connected to the Forest of Death.

"Narto" squeezed at his thumb and point up, "Tha's my home!"

"…uh," Hirotoki responded intelligently, "…Nice digs…?"

Yes. "Nice digs." Excellent.

Hirotoki could already hear Eri laughing at him from a thousand miles away.

Naruto's face brightened and Hirotoki tried not to pay too much attention to the rotting floorboards and nest of wasps near one of the windows.

Looks like he'd have to play exterminator sometime in the future. Again.

Atleast it wasn't a nest of fire ants?

Hirotoki blinked, then looked down at Naruto again, "So I assume you know your way up?"

Naruto nodded, cheerful smile on his face and revealing the set of sharp, pointy teeth.

The boy had fangs.

It looked kinda cool, Hirotoki admitted.

"Thanks, mistah!" Naruto waved at him from the base of the tree where his dingy little treehouse sat. The sun glinted off his claws.

Hirotoki found the resolve to stay out of the child's life hardening in the pit of his stomach.

"You're the nicest g'own-up ever!"

That immediately crumbled in the face of contemplation. For buying materials to repair the damn house and the possible political repercussions for bothering with the kid.

Hirotoki put a finger to his chin, then shrugged, and figured he could always smuggle the bratling away from Konoha if it got to be too much.

..And probably die trying, but he'd think about logistics and details whenever the time came.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from ff.net, not sure if I'll continue.
> 
> Can't say it'll be too serious, or crack-ish.


End file.
